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Milk

My mother wouldn't be cowed into nursing and decided that formula was healthier than the liquid from her breasts. And so I never sucked a single...
American Poetry Review, The, 07/01/09 by Hirsch, Edward · More from publication
A Tribute to Gerald Stern

Antioch Review, The, 01/01/09 by Edward (American poet) Hirsch · More from publication
In the Studio

1. 1965 (Chicago) Branch Library I wish I could find that skinny, long-beaked boy who perched in the branches of the old branch library. He...
American Poetry Review, The, 07/01/07 by Hirsch, Edward · More from publication
A New Theology

God couldn't bear their happiness when he heard them laughing together in the garden. He caught them kneeling down in the dirt (or worse) and...
American Poetry Review, The, 03/01/07 by Hirsch, Edward · More from publication
Poet on the Poem: Bridging, The

"Cotton Candy" started with two images, a buried memory. The first was of interweaving my fingers with the fingers of my grandfather, who had...
American Poetry Review, The, 03/01/07 by Hirsch, Edward · More from publication
Cotton Candy

We walked on the bridge over the Chicago River for what turned out to be the last time, and I ate cotton candy, that sugary air, that sweet blue...
American Poetry Review, The, 03/01/07 by Hirsch, Edward · More from publication

I Wish I Could Paint You

I wish I could paint you- your lanky body, lithe, coltish, direct. I need a brush for your hard angles and ferocious blues and reds. I need to...
American Poetry Review, The, 03/01/07 by Hirsch, Edward · More from publication
To My Shadow

You stand behind me at the podium, a mute accuser, and refuse to speak. Words mean nothing to you. Later, you rush ahead of me on a deserted...
American Poetry Review, The, 03/01/07 by Hirsch, Edward · More from publication
Man Without a Face

I fell asleep at the wooden desk and when I woke up startled in the wintry light- I can't explain this- my face stayed in my hands. I tried to...
American Poetry Review, The, 03/01/07 by Hirsch, Edward · More from publication
Playing the Odds

The Vegas lights are glaring at one a.m. and I can still see my bulky first father standing at the crap table whispering softly to the dice, ...
American Poetry Review, The, 03/01/07 by Hirsch, Edward · More from publication